Fortune Favours the Bold
by zachtheknife
Summary: Family above all else.


Harry Potter loved to explore.

Certainly he enjoyed playing with his many toys, riding his broomstick, and hanging out with his few friends. But above all else Harry Potter loved to explore. He found such gleeful joy in each new adventure and every new journey. Whether hiking through the forest surrounding his family's manor or discovering new secrets of magic, Harry found mystery and wonder everywhere.

However, along with his explorative habits came a particular string of luck. It is said that all Potters suffer from this brand of luck as a result of the indiscretions of a long dead ancestor, George Potter II, who was (and is) well known as "Handsome George". George was quite the playboy in his time, famous (or infamous, depending on your perspective) for the seduction of in-numerous beautiful young maidens. George, however, once made the mistake of gaining the ire of a young Roma girl, who took her revenge by cursing George (and, of course, his descendants) with what could either have been "eternal impotence" or "eternal adventure". Luckily for George, the young girl was both inexperienced and embarrassingly distracted (having been naked at the time) and he wound up with "eternal adventure". Thus, instead of suffering from an inability to "get it up", George lived a long and interesting life of 130 years before "perishing" from exhaustion at the hands of a small Veela colony in the Pyrenees with a massive smile on his face.

Hence, just as all Potters before him, Harry suffered from a tendency to wind up in... "situations", so to speak.

Currently, he was facing down a rather rabid wild Fae. Traditionally, Fae conjure ideas of bloodthirsty and cunning Sidhe, manipulative and beautiful beings of immense power. Weaving webs of deception, these legendary creatures often negotiate Faustian deals with humans in exchange for the use of their god-like powers.

On the contrary, while certainly bloodthirsty, wild Fae lack both the intelligence and the power of the Sidhe, only capable of primal instincts and basic cognition. Wild Fae roam the forests and bogs of the British Isles (amongst other regions of the world), devouring both animal and human alike to sate their never-ending hunger.

As Harry darted through the trees, he took a moment to look behind himself to check on his pursuer.

"_Shite_! Bad idea bad idea bad idea!" He screamed as he realised the monster was rapidly gaining on him. Changing directions suddenly, he vaulted over a fallen trunk as he tried to escape. Heart beating heavily in his ear, Harry tried to push his body to its limits, pumping his legs as fast as he could. He ducked into an area of thick foliage in an attempt to lose the monster. He would have no such luck. The wild Fae was child-sized and just as capable of flitting through heavy bush as Harry. It was as he emerged from the thicket, bruised and scratched from the branches, that he began heaving. Harry was actually an accomplished winger, one of the stars of his local youth team (with a standing offer in place at several professional academies), and strenuously exercised on a regular basis. However, regardless of his level of fitness Harry was still only eleven and could not hope to outrun an unnatural monster with inhuman stamina. He looked back once more to check on the fae's location, not knowing that this would be the mistake that sealed his fate.

By the time he saw the thick branch on the forest floor, he was already falling. He cried out as he rolled along the ground for several meters, catching the side of his head on a rock. Blood dripping down his face and trying as he could to crawl back up, he was unprepared for the clawed hand that captured his ankle. Desperately kicking and pulling, Harry vainly tried to force the fae to release him. He had no such luck as he was flipped onto his back and for the first time, came face to face with his killer. With elvish ears and snow-white hair, marking its Winter origins, the wild fae fit the legends accurately. It possessed a mouthful of shark-like teeth, bared at Harry, each viciously sharp point eagerly awaiting the chance to be stained with his blood as its acidic saliva dripped onto Harry, burning through his shirt. Its nose was distended and crooked, as though it had been broken several times. The eyes, however, were empty; a swirling bright green abyss filled only with hunger.

As the monster raised a clawed hand to slit his throat, Harry prepared himself for his seemingly inevitable death.

"Never even got the chance to go to Hogwarts or kiss a girl or get a blowj..."

Before he could finish what would surely have been a profane statement of virginal regret, the monster paused suddenly before its head explosively detached from its body with enough force to shower Harry's horrified face with a combination of amethyst blood and oesophageal tract.

"I do not believe I will ever understand how you always manage to wind up in situations like this, Harry," stated Harry's saviour.

Harry took affront to that.

"It's not as if I go out of my bloody way to get into brawls with wild fae. It just sort of... happens?"

"Regardless, you are clearly in need of a good scrub."

"You think so?" quipped Harry, who was in the middle of digging guts out of his ears when he received a sharp rap on his head.

"Do not be cheeky with me. Ungrateful little bastard, I just saved your life." The older man twirled his walking stick before abruptly turning around and saying, "We should probably hurry back before _she_ sees the state of you. Lord knows the fit she'll throw."

Harry whitened and said nothing as he chased after his elder companion.

* * *

Upon exiting the forest a large Georgian manor home came into view. This was Potter Manor, colloquially referred to as "The Kiln". One 19th century enemy of the Potter family, who thought himself quite the comedian, came up with the name and, much to the dismay of the Potters, it stuck. Ironically, that enemy mysteriously met his end in a blacksmith's furnace.

The Kiln was built upon an Unplottable multi-acre property somewhere in the East Midlands. Greenery stretched as far as the eye could see, with the forest to the east and sparsely wooded plains in all other directions. Near on the left side was a large three car garage, built in the modern style, looking rather odd next to the 18th century manor home. A path from the house led to an extensive yet delicate greenhouse on the north side of the property, gleaming in the midsummer sun. A granite pool lie behind the house, sunlight shining through the crystal clear water and reflecting off of the multi-coloured stone on the bottom.

As Harry passed through the entrance and came into the Italian marble foyer, he walked into his companion's back. Wondering what had happened, he voiced his query.

"What the hell is going on?"

The old man sighed before stepping aside and revealing the bruised and dirtied boy to his wife. Dark haired with aristocratic cheekbones and a soft, delicate nose, she was quite the beauty. Petite and slender, the woman appeared young but soft frown lines and subtle greying around her temple revealed her age.

Charcoal eyes looked Harry up and down before exclaiming,

"I am unsure 'what the hell is going on?', why don't you tell me?"

"Uhhhhh... Not much," deflected Harry.

"Harry James Potter, you will have no dessert if you do not tell me the truth."

Groaning in as much frustration as resignation, Harry replied, "I may have run into a wild fae and had a bit of a tussle... But, but there's no permanent damage or anything and I'm perfectly alright."

The woman paused.

"... I will be the judge of that. Come here."

She commanded and so Harry obeyed. Head bowed, he approached the woman as though he were approaching the gallows. She began hemming and hawing, tittering and tutting as she examined the pre-teen's war wounds. Wincing as she touched the gash on his head, Harry breathed a sigh of relief when the woman pulled out her wand and stitched it up with a simple spell. After what felt like hours of torture to Harry (but was in reality only four minutes and twenty seconds), the woman finished her manhandling.

"Are you done?" asked Harry impatiently.

"Yes, yes you are quite fine," she replied before quickly ending Harry's ensuing celebratory "I told you so"-dance, "But, you will promise me that you will be more careful from now. We both love you so much Harry. You are the only family we have left in this world and I am not sure what either of us would do if we lost you."

The mood now sombre, Harry looked up at the woman and, with all the seriousness that an 11-year-old boy can muster, stated, "I promise I will be more careful from now on. And I love you too Grandmother." He affectionately embraced her before smiling mischievously and saying, "Does this mean I still get dessert?"

Dorea burst into giggles as she replied, "Yes you silly boy, you can still have dessert."

* * *

AN: I have lurked for 6 years but never got around to publishing a story. I decided to use this idea because I have yet to see a story where Harry is raised by his paternal grandparents. I only hope I can do it justice.

Be warned now that this story will earn its M-rating. It will have extreme violence, excessive profanity, drug use, sexual situations and many instances of death. I will not gloss over anything. This story will not be suitable for children.

Furthermore, this story will have a nonlinear storyline. Chapters will take place out of chronological sequence.

In order to pre-empt the questions that I know will come, as far as pairings go this fic will be Harry/Many. By that I do NOT mean Harry/Harem. What I do mean is that Harry will not enter into a lifelong union with the first girl he lays eyes on, nor will he turn every pretty girl at Hogwarts into his sexual thrall. He will go on many dates, have several monogamous relationships, and even enjoy a few one-night stands. He will fall in love and he will suffer the pain of heartbreak and rejection. Eventually, he will enter into a long-term relationship with a girl of my choice and might marry her and have several children. Or she might die. Real life is not predictable and my story will not be either.

Another thing to keep in mind is that this is an AU with a drastically different childhood; so expect to see little to none of canon Harry's personality.

I am in my final semester of college so my workload isn't heavy, but updates will still be sporadic and limited in order to ensure they are of the highest quality. Expect two chapters per month. Chapters will also be much longer than this, hopefully.

I apologise for the really long author's note, I just wanted to get all of these things out of the way right at the beginning.

As this is my first fic, feedback is very much appreciated. Please review.


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